


Intoxicated

by Humanity_Sucks2002



Series: Bellamort One-Shots [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Second War with Voldemort, Voyeurism, incestuous thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28925928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanity_Sucks2002/pseuds/Humanity_Sucks2002
Summary: Draco knew what he was doing was wrong. That knowledge didn’t stop him.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort
Series: Bellamort One-Shots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188704
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Intoxicated

Draco knew what he was doing was wrong. If he was caught, he was dead. He didn’t know which one of them would be the one to do it, but either way he would still be dead. That knowledge didn’t stop him.

Barely breathing, barely thinking – in fear that they would hear him – Draco stood in a cupboard. Silent. Watching. Aching.

Bellatrix really was beautiful. Dark and sensuous, eyes closed, mouth open a little as her lover gave His attentions to her neck. She was loud, moaning deeply. Legs, still in her tights, although they had been ripped down the crotch, held Him in place. The high heels she wore dug into the back of His legs – daggers about to break the skin. Their coupling was harsh, violent: He fucked her hard on top of a chest of draws. What wouldn’t Draco have done to be in that bastard’s place?

Draco had always been fascinated with the photographs his mother had kept of her. The glamour, the wickedness, the moving smirk that pulled the viewer in, promising to whisper dark secrets into their ears.

In one photo, that he’d stolen in fourth year and had kept in one of his shoes, Bellatrix had been lying on a chaise long, mid conversation with the person behind the camera. Wrapped in silk, arm behind her head, dark eyes following his every move. Draco had spent so long staring at her, he felt he could paint her face blindfolded.

Then he’d met her. Three months out of Azkaban and not quite herself. Terribly thin; hair, that had once been a curtain of darkness, was peppered with grey and white; lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Fourteen years older through hardship had changed her, to be sure. But Draco didn’t care. She was spellbinding. 

They changed position slightly, against the draws. She raked her fingers over His head, long nails against bald scalp. Her lips, whispering His honorific breathlessly, rested against His temple. She shook, the change angling His thrusts in the perfect spot.

The noises she made – even though they were intermingled with her cries for the other man – had Draco mad with lust. His cock aching to be free, and desperate to be the one causing her such pleasure. The man she was with didn’t deserve her.

She had seen Draco’s soul during their occlumency lessons. He’d been hesitant to begin with, fearful that she would see what he thought of her. What would she do to him if she saw his fantasies? He saw his vision of her riding him, tying him to the bed-frame and beating him, then loving him. The images of her choking on his cock, or him devouring her.

Would she be disgusted? Would she spill his secret to her lord? Stoke the man’s jealousy and watch as He destroyed Draco, taking him apart piece by piece as an example; make him an example of what happens to people that dare infringe on the Dark Lord’s property.

Or, and it was this hope that had sent him though the doors to the ballroom, ready for his lessons to begin, would she be interested?

She wasn’t exactly a paragon of morals. It wasn’t ludicrous to think that maybe she would want to, even if it was just to experience it. Draco knew that she was reckless, and that fourteen years without stimulation would make someone want to experience everything that came knocking. Would she take pity on a poor, tortured soul?

No. Pity was not a word Bellatrix Le-Strange agreed with.

She definitely knew. She knew that he was intoxicated by her. Bellatrix moved sensuously whenever he was around. She would readjust his wand positions in their lessons, getting close and personal. He would feel her breath on his neck. She would wink at him in meetings, and he would be left hard and miserable.

She revelled the torment she caused. Draco should have known that – mistress of torture she was. The crutiatus was her favourite spell, but her expedition in pain did not stop there. Bellatrix didn’t touch him. She didn’t do anything that would offend his mother. She didn’t do anything that the Dark Lord would be angered by.

It was a private torture. It wasn’t like Draco could complain about it. He didn’t want to complain – if this was as close as he was going to get to her then, well, Draco was happy to watch.

As he watched now, light from the room hitting his eye as it was pressed to the crack in the cupboard door, Bellatrix’s back arched. She tensed up, pleading with Him to let her finish.

“Bella…” Her name fell from His lips, sounding like it was ripped from him unwillingly. Draco watched His shoulder muscles tensing as He came, much quieter than Draco had expected, into Bellatrix. Hearing her own name coming from Him pushed Bellatrix over the edge. Unlike her companion, Bellatrix was loud. Very loud. She screamed, her nails digging into His shoulders so hard that she drew blood. Scarlet on the white marble of His skin.

They were still for a moment, catching their breaths together. The tension in the air was thick like smog.

“The meeting is at eight.” Draco heard Him say, as He sorted his appearance out. “If you are late again Bella, I will not be so forgiving.” Silently, He cleaned up, a powerful cleansing spell on the both of them and the draws.

“I will be there early, my lord.” Bellatrix breathed, her eyes glassy and clouded with the aftermath of her pleasure. She leant back on her elbows; her skirts still hiked up high over her thighs. She didn’t start to right herself yet, instead leaning back at watching Him get dressed again. She looked hungry, yet still satiated. As if she had gotten a taste of a meal she had been dying for.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He said, “I’ll see you later, Bella.”

“My lord” Bellatrix bowed her head, her porcelain cheeks pink, as He swept from the room, black robes billowing as He did so. Bellatrix sighed, putting her head back against the wall. Draco watched her neck, eyes focused on the vein pulsating under her skin, eyes landing on the perspiration on her skin like dew.

Merlin, she was perfect!

For half a moment, Draco genuinely considered showing himself. He thought about throwing himself from the cupboard and finish the job. The sex she’d just had was good – Draco had to begrudgingly give Him that – but she was still walking. Draco wanted to leave her legs as jelly, leave her unable to get to that meeting later on, because she’d been fucked so hard.

Bellatrix ended that thought train though as she slid off the top of the chest of draws. She plopped down cheerfully, brushed her skirts down in a vain attempt to fix her appearance, and began to rebutton her blouse. She moved swiftly. Her fingers moved deftly over the jet buttons, pausing momentarily to affix the cufflinks.

Then, as fast as she’d entered the room, entangled in the arms of her master, Bellatrix was gone. The door slammed. Her stride was strong, the heels clicking in time to a tango beat. Draco heard her call out to his mother on the stairs, asking what they were planning to have for dinner. 

Draco stumbled from the cupboard minutes after she left. He knew they was gone, but couldn’t bring himself to move, just in case one of them were waiting for him beyond the door. Draco’s eyes were glued to the spot that she had claimed. There was nothing left of course, He had seen to that, the bastard.

Draco fled the scene too. He had memories to explore...privately.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this on anonymous for a while because some of my IRL friends know about my A03 account, but then I thought "fuck it" none of them read my shit anyway imma take it off anonymous. :) Hope you enjoyed this trainwreck.


End file.
